HISASHIBURI~!
Title: Lesson Learnt
Author: REIIII~~
Pairing: OkaMori
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Beta: Beta'ed! By...someone.. (Hint: see A/N below the fic)
A/N: LONG TIME NO SEEEEEE~! Rei is here to bring an angst, mind-twisting fic >D Dedicated to Sora Amori (soranoko) :DD since she’s such a sweetheart~ thank you for translating those articles bb ♥
Summary: Ryutaro hated Keito with every fiber of his being, but after hating each other for so long, can something finally change? Can Ryutaro learn that he is capable of loving someone who is the polar opposite of himself?
Ryutaro's lips move, forming silent words. He wring his hands together, and clench his hands into fists, dull nails tearing at the skins of his palms, blood breaking through. And he sits there, and prays, with everything he have, that he remember him. That he will cherish what they had, that he mean more than just a wasted hour to him.
Ryutaro hope to heavens above that Keito wouldn’t think of this as a onetime shag, because Ryutaro doesn’t, and it kills him to think his sentiments aren’t reciprocated. He just wish that Keito'd remember what he feels for him, and how Keito promised Ryutaro it won’t come between them.
You will, won’t you?
It hurt him to think about it, but every time Ryutaro sees his smile in his head, he feels his cheeks stretching, and his teeth being exposed, and he realises that thinking about Keito makes him smile. Any memory; good, bad, disgusting, pleasant stirs something inside of him. A feeling grows that he simply cannot quell, and it hurts him to realise this.
But he always thought Keito were straight. The most logical explanation would be Keito using his feelings for him against Ryutaro. Plain and simple.
He was vulnerable. He was in pain. He was in awe. He was in shock.
He was so far in, that nothing could drag his beaten and bloody body out.
They hated each other, with passion.
They fought each other, hurt each other, and destroyed each other.
Amidst all the airborne fists, disturbing insults, sharp sneers and blind condescension, Ryutaro learnt to respect him.
He learnt to respect him.
All the power Keito commanded, without realising he did. Keito simply stood and stared, and people were in awe of him. He was dominant in his milieu, but he wasn’t prideful, or a gluttonous pig. He acted like a human being. One capable of emotion.
Ryutaro learnt to fear him.
Seeing how Keito could crush anyone, and laugh while doing so, Ryutaro imagined him as a madman. Keito hold an air of power around him, and people fear him. His closest friends respect who he is, and what he has been though. They understand, too, the hard life of the streets.
Maybe that’s why all of them get along so well. They've survived some of the harshest torture, withstood some of the most tormenting pain, and come through everything stronger than before. It still scares Ryutaro, the unknown, and he is yet to be brave enough to walk out his door unguarded, but he’s sure he'll progress.
Ryutaro learnt to hate him.
Ryutaro saw him get knocked down in the street. A dim alleyway. He had a black hood covering his face, baggy jeans, and those stupid trainers on. Typical wannabe white trash.
And he was slumped on the floor, failing back against the weight of defeat, as again and again, fists connected loudly with his face. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed reverberated against the walls, and Ryutaro simply stood there, hands in his jeans, thumbs sticking out, and rain dripping down his face. It was a typical mobbing in the night, nothing off about it.
Keito lays there, getting kicked in the chest, but never making a sound.
His four attackers grab him by the front of your jumper, and haul him into a kneeling position. As he shifts upwards, his hood slips off of his face, exposing it.
Deep cuts and bruises litter his face, not showing anything resembling the normal colour of human flesh.
Even through all this, even though you had barely been able to keep yourself conscious, you were still beautiful, Keito-kun. And I’m sorry I didn’t help you, I’m sorry I never will. But who would ever want a Morimoto Ryutaro, the famous star to appear to have any emotion at all?
Ryutaro learnt to love him.
A/N: Believe it or not, this was beta'ed by my mother. LOL last night! Approximately 3 AM~ She’s currently in Turkey and we were chatting~ and then I thought why not? Her english is waaay better than mine, anyway~ So yeah, hope this satisfies you people! Missed you all, terribly! *HUGGLES* <333
Author: REIIII~~
Pairing: OkaMori
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Beta: Beta'ed! By...someone.. (Hint: see A/N below the fic)
A/N: LONG TIME NO SEEEEEE~! Rei is here to bring an angst, mind-twisting fic >D Dedicated to Sora Amori (soranoko) :DD since she’s such a sweetheart~ thank you for translating those articles bb ♥
Summary: Ryutaro hated Keito with every fiber of his being, but after hating each other for so long, can something finally change? Can Ryutaro learn that he is capable of loving someone who is the polar opposite of himself?
Ryutaro's lips move, forming silent words. He wring his hands together, and clench his hands into fists, dull nails tearing at the skins of his palms, blood breaking through. And he sits there, and prays, with everything he have, that he remember him. That he will cherish what they had, that he mean more than just a wasted hour to him.
Ryutaro hope to heavens above that Keito wouldn’t think of this as a onetime shag, because Ryutaro doesn’t, and it kills him to think his sentiments aren’t reciprocated. He just wish that Keito'd remember what he feels for him, and how Keito promised Ryutaro it won’t come between them.
You will, won’t you?
It hurt him to think about it, but every time Ryutaro sees his smile in his head, he feels his cheeks stretching, and his teeth being exposed, and he realises that thinking about Keito makes him smile. Any memory; good, bad, disgusting, pleasant stirs something inside of him. A feeling grows that he simply cannot quell, and it hurts him to realise this.
But he always thought Keito were straight. The most logical explanation would be Keito using his feelings for him against Ryutaro. Plain and simple.
He was vulnerable. He was in pain. He was in awe. He was in shock.
He was so far in, that nothing could drag his beaten and bloody body out.
They hated each other, with passion.
They fought each other, hurt each other, and destroyed each other.
Amidst all the airborne fists, disturbing insults, sharp sneers and blind condescension, Ryutaro learnt to respect him.
He learnt to respect him.
All the power Keito commanded, without realising he did. Keito simply stood and stared, and people were in awe of him. He was dominant in his milieu, but he wasn’t prideful, or a gluttonous pig. He acted like a human being. One capable of emotion.
Ryutaro learnt to fear him.
Seeing how Keito could crush anyone, and laugh while doing so, Ryutaro imagined him as a madman. Keito hold an air of power around him, and people fear him. His closest friends respect who he is, and what he has been though. They understand, too, the hard life of the streets.
Maybe that’s why all of them get along so well. They've survived some of the harshest torture, withstood some of the most tormenting pain, and come through everything stronger than before. It still scares Ryutaro, the unknown, and he is yet to be brave enough to walk out his door unguarded, but he’s sure he'll progress.
Ryutaro learnt to hate him.
Ryutaro saw him get knocked down in the street. A dim alleyway. He had a black hood covering his face, baggy jeans, and those stupid trainers on. Typical wannabe white trash.
And he was slumped on the floor, failing back against the weight of defeat, as again and again, fists connected loudly with his face. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed reverberated against the walls, and Ryutaro simply stood there, hands in his jeans, thumbs sticking out, and rain dripping down his face. It was a typical mobbing in the night, nothing off about it.
Keito lays there, getting kicked in the chest, but never making a sound.
His four attackers grab him by the front of your jumper, and haul him into a kneeling position. As he shifts upwards, his hood slips off of his face, exposing it.
Deep cuts and bruises litter his face, not showing anything resembling the normal colour of human flesh.
Even through all this, even though you had barely been able to keep yourself conscious, you were still beautiful, Keito-kun. And I’m sorry I didn’t help you, I’m sorry I never will. But who would ever want a Morimoto Ryutaro, the famous star to appear to have any emotion at all?
Ryutaro learnt to love him.
A/N: Believe it or not, this was beta'ed by my mother. LOL last night! Approximately 3 AM~ She’s currently in Turkey and we were chatting~ and then I thought why not? Her english is waaay better than mine, anyway~ So yeah, hope this satisfies you people! Missed you all, terribly! *HUGGLES* <333